


If it Doesn't Kill You...

by Lopithecus



Series: SuperBat Prompts [34]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Day 1 Prompt, M/M, Superbat Week, Superbat Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 01:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lopithecus/pseuds/Lopithecus
Summary: Clark and Bruce are off to dinner in town when they come across trouble. Trying to intervene, however, might prove to be more fatal than they had first thought.





	If it Doesn't Kill You...

**Author's Note:**

> This is for day 1 of SuperBat Week! Enjoy!!
> 
> Prompt: Day 1 - Kryptonite

“Well, that seems to be the last of it,” Bruce says as he wipes the grease on his hands off on a rag.

Clark looks over the Bat’s shoulder, inspecting the Batmobile. He doesn’t understand anything about cars let alone engines to this magnitude. The Batmobile’s engine has been tinkered with to perfection and to the highest quality one can get such a thing. Clark couldn’t even begin to understand what Bruce is talking about when he says something about the crankshaft or what the valves are for. So he just nods and agrees with everything the man tells him. Right now, he doesn’t see anything different about the pristine engine.

Bruce chuckles, deep and low in his chest. It’s a sound Clark loves hearing. A sound reserved only for Bruce’s closest friends and family. “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”

“No!” Clark crosses his arms defensively. “I know you changed the… thing with the… thing.”

Bruce chuckles again and pats Clark’s chest. “Come on, let’s go get a bite to eat.”

Clark waits patiently while Bruce cleans himself up and when the other man appears, he flies the two of them into town. “Where do you want to go?” Clark asks Bruce, knowing neither of them are dressed for anything fancy.

Bruce shrugs as they walk down the sidewalk. “What about that diner you like so much?”

Clark lights up, smiling wide at his boyfriend. “You know I won’t say no to that.” Bruce tsks, smiling, and Clark bumps into his shoulder playfully. “What? You know just as well as I do that they make the top ten apple pies.”

Bruce smiling and it makes Clark smile more. They walk hand in hand, enjoying each other’s company with idle chat. They talk about small things; the newest article Clark is typing up, the new business deal Bruce is trying to close, the latest gadget, and, of course, the upcoming Wayne Gala. It’s an enjoyable conversation, one Clark doesn’t take lightly. Sometimes, the two of them get so caught up in League stuff that it’s all they talk about and forget to talk about normal human stuff.

Bruce is in the middle of explaining something that Damian had recently done at school, when the two of them hear screaming from a side alley. They turn and see two men pushing a woman around and hitting her. Clark can feel Bruce’s hackles rising immediately and as if in synch, they both move at the same time.

They run up the two men, Bruce focusing on one and Clark focusing on the other. However, as Clark gets closer, a weird feeling starts to come over his body. It only gets more painful as he approaches but when he glances over at Bruce, the Bat in the man has come out and all focus is on taking the attacker out. So Clark pushes on.

He swings at the man but the punch is slow, his kick misses, and when he goes to push the man to the ground, nausea rushes through his stomach. He begins to sweat heavily, feeling lightheaded and as if death has wormed its way into his bones. There’s only one thing that Clark knows of that can make him feel this way, that can render him completely useless; kryptonite.

Clark scans the area, swaying on his feet as the man approaches, knife in hand. It isn’t until the knife is plunged into his stomach that he realized that the knife itself is made of kryptonite. He hears the woman scream, a grunt as one of the men goes down, knocked unconscious, and then sees with blurry vision as the one who stabbed him joins his friend.

“Clark!” Bruce is kneeling in front of him, pressing a hand to the wound. “Clark, stay with me. You’re going to be okay.” Bruce pulls his cellphone out of his pocket, hits one button, and speaks when the person on the other line picks up. “Alfred, we need emergency extraction. Now!”

Clark doesn’t remember what happens after.

*~~~*

Waking up under a solar lamp isn’t anything new to Clark. Neither is waking up to Bruce sitting next to said solar lamp. He groans as he moves, muscles and joints feeling stiff from not moving for a while. Bruce is staring at him and Clark gives him a weak smile.

“How long was I out?” he asks.

Bruce shakes his head and sighs. “Seventeen hours.”

“That bad, huh?”

Bruce gives him a sharp look and gets up out of his chair. “You should have told me!” he yells.

“What?”

“As soon as you started feeling sick, you should have told me, you moron! I could have handled both of them myself!” Bruce paces back and forth, rubbing a hand down his jaw. 

Clark sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and reaches out for the man. Bruce stares at his outstretched hand for a few seconds but Clark is grateful when the man takes it, sitting back down in his chair. “I’m sorry.” Clark rubs at Bruce’s knuckles. “It was stupid, I know, but I wasn’t thinking.”

“Well, you need to start thinking,” Bruce chastises. “I’m not always going to be there to save your ass.”

“I know.” Clark brings Bruce’s hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I really am sorry, but you also know me. I can’t just not help people. No matter what, Bruce.”

Bruce sighs again and looks at Clark silently. Clark allows him time, let’s the bat think over his words. Then, with one last sigh, Bruce relents. “I know and I don’t expect you to. I just want you to be more careful. You might seem like it sometimes but you aren’t indestructible. You can die, Clark.”

“And so can you.”

Bruce doesn’t comment on that and Clark is happy for it. It’s an old argument they’ve had a million times and Clark suspects neither of them have the energy right now to hash it out. Bruce shrugs towards the Cave’s stairs that lead up to the main house. “Are you feeling better? Can we go to our bed now?”

Clark stands slowly, still feeling a little weak but trying to hide it from Bruce. He knows he fails. “I’m feeling right as rain.”

Bruce snorts a short laugh and, still holding Clark’s hand, leads him up to their room.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
